


Labyrinth

by Stegosaur



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-20 19:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegosaur/pseuds/Stegosaur
Summary: The turtles find themselves inside a twisted, perverted labyrinth run by an old foe.





	1. Introductions

     There was a chorus of groans as the four turtles stirred awake, sudden blackness receding from their vision and being replaced with drab, gray walls. Raphael was the first to attempt movement, finding his body slumped in a wooden chair with his neck held rigid by...something. "What the hell...?"  
Michelangelo was next, fingers coiling around a metal collar clasped tight against his neck. "Guys? Are you there?" The four of them had their shells pointed towards a post in the center of the room, their steel collars tethered to the pole by a connecting rod - for now. Unable to see one another easily, Michelangelo ventured a hand outward to his left and back slightly. "Anyone here?"  
     "I am," Leo spoke up, blindly smacking Michelangelo's hand with his own before hurriedly grasping it. "Raph is too. Donnie? You with us?"  
     There was a groan behind the three of them. "Just me and my headache, yeah..." The genius among them reached up to rub at his forehead, massaging the pain away. "Anyone else wearing something around their neck?" The three of them echoed an acknowledgment, which only made Donatello's stomach twist. "Damn."  
     Each of them felt around the metal collars encircling their necks, the steel material silky smooth all the way around, with no sign of a seam. The two exceptions to this were some sort of glassy texture on the front, out of sight, and the connecting rod in the rear that held them in place. "No locks to pick." Leonardo shared his observation aloud, with a loud grunt from Raphael ruling out brute force as a potential solution.  
     "We're going to play a game, turtles." Shredder's voice echoed throughout the room, seizing their collective attention. "As you've no doubt noticed, all four of you are in a similar predicament and with no obvious means of escape."  
     "I'm gonna kill you, Shredhe-" Raphael's empty threat is cut out by a crackling of voltage and a scream of pain, the burly terrapin electrocuted through his collar.  
     "Let that be a warning to all of you: do not speak over me, or you will be disciplined." There was a lingering silence as their situation soaked in. "Excellent, I'm glad you all understand. Now then, as I said, we're going to play a little game together. All four of you are trapped deep in the heart of a labyrinth of my creation and are tasked with escaping it. Of course, I have no intention of making this easy for you."  
     There was a sudden click behind them all, followed by the release of their collars. All four sprang to their feet and prepared for a fight, though with no apparent means of entry - or exit - their preparedness was pointless. "Such virile young men you are. Your first test begins shortly, so let me explain the rules of this first game to you." A single door appeared on each wall, the walls themselves changing color to match each turtle's favored mask. "Each of you must enter a door. All of you may enter the same door, or each of you may enter a different door from the others. Going alone might make your challenges more difficult, but entering with a partner will assess each of you a penalty point."  
     A timer appeared above each door, sixty seconds marked out in black text. "Choose quickly." As Shredder's voice cut out, the timers immediately began counting down in unison.  
     "Everyone, we're going blue!" Leo barked his order, dashing over to the door directly in front of him. Raphael ignored the order as expected, one hand inside his own red door.  
     "No way, we're going red."  
     "We don't have time for this, Raphael! Listen to the leader!" Leo snapped back angrily. The clock ticked down past the forty-five-second mark, while Donatello and Michelangelo split their gaze between the two angry siblings. This was not the time for an argument.  
     "Each of us should take a doorway to minimize our penalty and maximize our escape chances." Donatello offered a sound strategy, which was completely ignored by Leo and Raph. "HEY!" Donatello's shout snapped all attention on him in an instant, the timer crossing thirty seconds. "We don't know what's in store for us, and so we have to take Shredder at his word. We either split up and maximize our chances of success, or we handicap ourselves with a penalty by cramming into a single room. If these rooms are trapped, then-"  
     "Ten seconds, turtles. Time to choose." Raphael clicked his tongue angrily and bolted into his door, while Leo gave Donnie a confident nod before dashing through his. Left alone with Michelangelo, Donatello pointed to the orange wall and its open door.  
     "Go, Mikey!" The younger turtle was clearly scared, but swallowed his fear and scampered off into whatever his next room might be, Donatello doing the same.  
     "Good luck, turtles." The doors slammed shut with surprising force, sealing each sibling into their next test.


	2. Game of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first test each turtle faces is deceptively simple, much to Donatello's chagrin.

     Donatello's eyes squeezed shut as a bright light filled the room, then gradually reopened to examine his surroundings. The current room was far smaller than before, barely large enough for himself; two turtles would've been a tight fit, and four would've been a tall order. The walls were purple, just like his currently missing mask, and felt rather soothing with their pastel color scheme.  
     "Greetings. I see each of you picked a room all for yourself. That will make this next game very...interesting." Shredder's voice taunted him from multiple hidden speakers, the genius bristling with frustration. Once again, he has to save his family members from a deadly game of some sort. "Let me explain your collars before the next test begins."  
Raphael paced angrily around his space as the voice droned on, his fists white with rage. "Your collars all have a counter on them. If this counter reaches ten, you lose. If it reaches zero, the collar disengages itself, and you'll be free."  
     Leonardo stood silently in the middle of his room, meditating on the present situation, trying to reach out to his brothers and provide support. "Currently, you all stand at five. You aren't free, but you haven't lost yet either. Equilibrium."  
     "This next test will test that equilibrium between the four of you. Your task is simple." Michelangelo watched a hole appear on the wall opposite where he came in, its empty blackness seemingly infinite. "Insert both of your arms into the opening provided, and answer the question you're asked."  
     Donatello stepped forward, hesitating briefly before sliding his arms into the opening. As soon as his forearm was halfway in, the opening sealed down against his skin and trapped him there, unable to move. Only then did a question appear on the wall in front of him, a deceptively simple one that struck terror into his chest.  
     "Ally? Or betray?"  
     The prisoner's dilemma. Donatello knew the game sickeningly well and had repeatedly tried to coach his siblings on its game theory, to no avail. If everyone allied, then they would all suffer a very minor penalty - easily surmounted this early on, but annoying nonetheless. Betrayal, however, typically rewarded the traitor at the expense of a harsher penalty against his compatriots.  If everyone betrayed each other, then all of them would suffer a slightly higher penalty together than if they all allied, but less than if one of them betrayed the rest.  
     Of course, the entire game relied on secrecy and trust. If all of them knew the game and its rules, then the obvious choice is to trust one another and endure a slight penalty. Except that his siblings likely didn't know this game theory, and there was no guarantee they would choose correctly. In fact, it was almost certain that at least one of them would choose to betray, but also a certainty that all of them wouldn't agree on a single answer.  
     Donatello swallowed hard as a ten-second countdown appeared below the question. He didn't need that much time to answer.  
     "Betray."  
     There was a click around his wrists before they were released, a pair of handcuffs locked around them. "A wise choice from you, Donatello, though there is always a price for betrayal."  Shredder's voice angered him precisely because he was right: there was no other logical choice Donatello could make in this situation.  
     A new door opened on a side wall, beckoning him to it. "I wonder how your siblings chose? Perhaps you'll find out soon enough..." With those mocking words in his ears, Donatello trudged into the next test, his badge of shame clinking around his wrists.


	3. Incline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey and Raphael are faced with a mountain that might be impossible to climb.

     Michelangelo whimpered at the sight of his latex-covered hands, his fingers sealed inside of rounded mitts and rendered useless. He'd trusted his family, and been rewarded with some sort of punishment. Marching down the hall to his next test, he was lost in thought when a familiar voice called out to him.  
     "Mikey!" The smaller turtle's gaze shot upward, Raphael smiling at him on the other side of a glass wall. The brute had been similarly trussed up in latex mitts, and his collar stood at eight points rather than the usual five. "You got rubbered up too?"  
     "Yeah. What happened to your point total? You're already at eight." Raphael instinctively grabbed at his neck, the rubber slipping right off the steel collar.  
     "So are you bro. This 'game' of Shreadhead's isn't very fair." Michelangelo whimpered again. Were they going to lose the game so early on?  
     "Trust has its rewards as well as its drawbacks." Shredder's voice crackled above their heads, the hallways behind them suddenly sealed off entirely. "Your trust appears to have been misplaced, but I wouldn't let the game end so soon just because of a mistake. You two trusted each other, and so you will be rewarded with a slightly easier test."  
     Raphael bit his tongue. As much as he wanted to spit a barb at Shredder, getting shocked again wasn't very enticing. Lights illuminated a steep ramp in front of the two of them, with two platforms each a third of the way up the ramp. It was hard to tell from the bottom, but it almost appeared as if it grew steeper the further up they climbed. "Your test is very simple: reach the top. For every platform you reach, you will have a point removed from your counter. If you reach the top, an additional two points will be removed."  
     Michelangelo felt relieved. With his agility and Raph's strength, both of them would be four points closer to zero in no time. "You have fifteen minutes, turtles. Best of luck." A single timer lit up at the top of the slope and immediately began counting down. Both turtles took off at the same time, but Mikey's agility and speed took him to the bottom platform first.  
     Raphael stumbled as his slope increased slightly, wobbling on the back of his feet. "Woah! The hell?!" Michelangelo turned back to see Raphael further behind him and paused on his own slope.  
     "What's wrong?"  
     "My climb just got steeper!" Raphael regained his footing and stomped up to his platform, resting on it for a moment. "There's some sorta gimmick here, Mikey."  
     "Hang on a sec, Raph." Michelangelo slid down the ramp back to his first platform and laid flat on his stomach to eyeball Raph's ramp through the glass. It was indeed steeper than his own, matching the incline of the second section as if it had raised up somehow. "Yeah, it's steeper. Can you keep going?"  
     "Totally. Just give me a head start?" They both glanced up at the timer: twelve minutes remaining.  
     "Go for it, bro. Just say when." Raphael began his climb upward, grateful for never skipping leg day in his workouts. His calves began to burn as he neared the second platform, eager for a rest.  
     "Come on up!" Michelangelo didn't need another invite, using his agility to sprint up the incline toward the second platform. Just as Raphael touched him, however, Michelangelo's own disappeared into the slope as if it never existed. He dropped to his knees and rolled onto his backside, using his feet and legs to keep himself from sliding downward.  
     "Shit!" He turned toward Raphael, who was looking concerned at Michelangelo's sudden handicap. "I knew there was something fishy here. Our ramps are linked somehow."  
     "So what now?" Raphael's final incline was the steepest yet, and he'd need a decent amount of time to climb up without the use of his hands. "Clock's tickin', Mike."  
     "Yeah yeah, I know." Michelangelo leaned back on his shell and slid down to his first platform, only to be caught by surprise as his feet sank into the now-liquid platform. "FUCK!"  
     "MIKE!" Michelangelo squirmed as the liquid ran up just below his knees, feeling something stiff under him pushing back up. The liquid fell away into the platform as a grate lifted him out of it, the rubbery substance having hardened quickly into a pair of combat boots. "Da fuq...?"  
     "This is some freaky shit, Raph." Mike looked himself over, and placed a boot against the floor of the slope: there was far more friction this time around, ironically making his climb easier at the expense of more humiliating gear. "But I can manage. Something tells me we need to finish together though, so get ready to climb."  
     "Aight. I'll start climbing once you do." He readied his feet against the steep incline, hoping he can close the remaining third of the course before Michelangelo clears twice that. The baby brother of the family was known for his speed across rooftops and up buildings, and those rubber boots might make it easier to avoid a risky backslide.  
     "Three..." Michelangelo placed his feet against the incline and plotted his path upward. "Two..." He bent at the knees, aligning his shell and spine parallel to the floor. "GO!" Then he broke into a full sprint, as did Raphael. Michelangelo's feet stomped hard against the floor with each step, the rubber boots providing much-needed grip while reducing his lateral mobility. He cleared the spot where the second platform had receded earlier and continued into his final ascent.  
     Raphael was nearing the top as well, and the sound of Michelangelo's boots clomping up behind him alerted him to his pacing issue. He pushed himself as hard as he could in spite of his burning muscles, struggling those last few feet to the top. He couldn't turn to look for Mikey, and he couldn't wait either: he needed to cross that threshold and complete the course, or he'd slide back to the platform and lose precious time.  
     As Raph put one foot at the summit and hauled himself upright, Mikey felt the incline under him begin to recede sharply. He took one step upward, and on the second, propelled himself up into a leap and tried to reach the top. Extending his arms forward and stretching his body out as much as he could, there was a resounding thud as his arms slammed against the floor, and his plastron against the now-vertical cliff. "HELP!"  
     Raphael reacted in a flash, the divider between their courses now gone at the summit and allowing him to dive toward his little brother. With both of their hands mitted, the gesture was futile. Michelangelo's hands began to slide along the floor as gravity pulled him downward, and Raphael's own attempts to hoist his brother up failed as the rubbery mitts slipped off Mikey's skin. "Come on Mikey, you can do this, I believe in you."  
     Mikey's eyes were filled with terror as he scrambled to try and pull himself up, attempting to get a grip on any part of Raphael's body. "Help me Raph, I'm going to fall." He was panicked, breathless. "Raph, grab me! Help!"  
     "I can't! These fuckin' gloves won't let me!" Raphael had managed to slide his arms under Mikey's armpits, but he lacked the leverage to lift his brother up. "Come on Mikey! Climb up!"  
     "Don't drop me!" Mikey's mitts slipped continuously off his brother's shell and body, his boots scraping the wall with frantic kicks. "DON'T DROP ME!"  
     "Mikey..." Raphael knew this was futile. He knew he couldn't pull Mikey up from this. "I'm sorry Mikey. I'm trying, I really am!" He lifted again, and this time, his brother slipped free of Raphael's latex mitts entirely.  
     Time slowed as Michelangelo realized he was falling. He saw Raph's horrified expression as his body slipped free of his brother's grasp, that hopeless look in his eyes as he realized he was powerless to help anymore.  
     Raphael was equally haunted by the seeming betrayal in Mikey's eyes as his body flailed for any sort of grip while it fell through the air. Then his sibling disappeared with a splash into a pool of that black liquid, and the room fell silent. He screamed in agony. He'd failed his little brother and was alone in this maze once again. Raphael didn't notice the rubber melting off his hands and dripping to the floor, or Shredder's voice reverberating through the room.  
     "A valiant attempt by both, but only one could ever win. Your collar now sits at four points, turtle. Proceed to your next test."


	4. Swaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo and Don are tested with a simple game of chance.

     Even as Leonardo's feet carried him down the hall, the rest of his body was engaged in pursuits of escape. His wrists repeatedly snapped the handcuff chain as tight as he could in an attempt to break it, and his ears listened for any sort of mechanical noise or whisperings that might help give away something's position. Neither of these ventures resulted in any meaningful data, nor did his earlier attempt at picking the lock on the handcuffs themselves.  
     His hallway came to an abrupt end in a larger room than before, a glass divider running down its center. Two small, white boxes sat on a shelf on the divider, one on either side of the wall, with a tiny window in the center just large enough for one box to slide through. Then there was Donatello, sitting on the floor in a corner of the room and looking back at him with a determined scowl, a pair of similar handcuffs secured around his sibling's wrists.  
     "Both of you made the rational choice to betray your family to save yourselves. However, the rest of your family did not, and have suffered accordingly." Donatello rose to his feet and approached the divider, listening intently to the directions for this game. He was the game theory expert in the family, and he had the best chance of success among them. Even if it meant betraying his siblings in an effort to save them.  
     "This game is simple. Each of you has a white box available to you, which contains a key to your mark of betrayal. One of these keys, however, is fake, and will not relieve you of your burden." Donatello swallowed hard, while Leonardo was already eyeballing his own box. "The rules are thus, turtles: you may slide a box through the opening twice at most, and the opening will shut once a box is opened. Finally, only a box may pass through the opening. Do not attempt to put anything else through the opening, or you will both fail the game and be penalized accordingly."  
     Both turtles took their boxes off the shelf, shaking them in an attempt to discern their contents and being met with silence from within. A timer appeared on the divider in front of them showing just two minutes to exchange their boxes, if they so chose. "I should add that the winner of this game will have an attempt to atone for their continued betrayal in the next room, while the loser will be immediately judged by their siblings. Good luck, turtles."  
     "Give me your box, Don." Leo barked as the timer began, holding his box away from the divider. "As the leader, I need to maintain the trust of our family. I need these cuffs off and my record clean."  
     "No way," Don glared back. "Game theory is my domain and you know it. I've got the best chance of escape, and the only one with the detective and intrusion skills to save the rest of you once I'm out."  
     "Assuming you get out! Your intrusion skills aren't what I'm concerned with, but your escape skills." Leo beckoned for the box once more. "The only surefire way to get free is to have both boxes. Hand yours over, and I promise I'll protect you when we meet again in this maze."  
     "If we meet again, you mean. What if I go face-to-face with Raph as the loser? What if he decides to make sure I lose the game entirely? Stop thinking so far ahead that you neglect the reality of the present." The timer sped past the one minute mark, meaning Don had to convince him here and now. "The most likely scenario is we betrayed Mikey and Raph, and that Raph will beat Mikey in whatever challenge is next. That means whoever loses here is going to have to answer to him, and he's going to be pissed."  
     "Which is exactly why I need your box, Don! You know he'll take revenge on me for betraying him!" Leo snarled. "But you'll be fine! He wouldn't dare hurt his lover, after all."  
     Donatello's heart ripped apart at that snipe, and without a moment's hesitation, he flung his box through the opening at Leo with as much force as he could muster. "Fuck you, Leo."  
     Leo halted at the stern rebuke from his brother, the realization of what he said in the heat of the moment sending a chill up his shell. "Don, I didn't-"  
     "Yes, you did. You meant every word of it. You're leveraging my romantic relationship with him to save your own skin. Well fuck you, Fearless Leader, it worked."  
     "Time is up, turtles." The opening in the divider slid closed and the glass darkened, silencing any further debate between the torn-apart siblings. "Proceed to your reward, as promised."  
Leonardo was left alone in his room, the handcuffs disengaging automatically as soon as the game was over. Neither box contained a key, but the fact he had both meant he was free to go, and that Don would have to face whichever of their siblings had won their own challenge.


	5. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael has an opportunity to avenge Michelangelo.

     Raphael had sat for what felt like an hour, contemplating how he could've possibly saved Michelangelo. There didn't seem to be a pressure for him to keep moving other than his own drive at the moment, and he relished the opportunity to catch his breath and contemplate the game.  
     According to the voiceover, he sat at four points now: a total of zero would free him, and ten would imprison him somehow. With that knowledge, he had to assume Mikey would pop up again somewhere, likely in some other game. Hauling himself back to his feet, he finally ventured down the darkened hallway to his next test.  
     Donatello had already been strung up by his wrists when Raphael finally entered the room, his instructions making it clear that compliance was mandatory. Before either can speak, however, Shredder's voice introduced the next game. "One of you placed their trust in their siblings. One of you betrayed them for an advantage. I'm sure you can figure out which is which..."  
     Raphael looked at his brother suspended from a hook in the ceiling, the steel handcuffs digging into Don's wrists. The genius was silent for the duration of the instructions, though Raphael couldn't suppress a low snarl at the implication he was facing the traitor. "Betrayal has a price. How high a price is up to you, Raphael. His score presently stands at five, while yours is at four. No matter what you choose, neither of you will be removed from the game during this room, although one of you could certainly go free..."  
     Donatello jerked in his bonds at that, desperate to say something. The memory of electricity arcing against Raphael's neck and spine kept him quiet, however. "You may choose from the punishments on the wall, Raphael, and handicap your sibling for his treachery. Or, you can transfer your remaining points to your brother." Four icons lit up on a wall, each one a cartoonish turtle representing one of the wise monkeys of lore: hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, and a happy face representing freedom from evil. On Don's collar, his screen transformed from a counter to a button marked 'TRANSFER'.  
     "Donatello has thirty seconds to sway your opinion, Raphael. Then you will have two minutes to decide his fate. Enjoy your revenge, no matter what form it might take."  
     A countdown timer appeared on the wall opposite Donatello, flashing thrice before engaging. "Okay, let me exp-" He couldn't even finish his first sentence before Raphael's fist slammed into his gut, sending his body swinging from the hook and a dry heave from his stomach. Donnie was coughing, wheezing from the blow, Raphael's strength completely unmatched between them.  
     "You bastard! I trusted you!" Raphael snarled loudly, punching Donnie again. "I lost Mikey because of your bullshit betrayal!" Another punch, the olive-skinned turtle wheezing loudly as his limp body swung from the hook. "You're lucky I don't pound you like a punching bag right here and now!"  
     The timer was nearing zero, but Donatello couldn't speak. Right now, he could barely even breathe, stars filling his vision while his body tried to fight off the pain in his abdomen. He could only manage a quiet gurgle before the timer ended, and his time for speaking closed.  
     A new timer appeared on all the other walls, counting down Raphael's disciplinary time for his sibling. He stormed over to Don and grabbed him by the collar, finger smashing the transfer button.  
     "How many points would you like to transfer to the contestant: DONATELLO?" A robotic voice chimed over the speakers, and at that moment, Raphael wasn't certain of his decision anymore. Four points would free himself from this sick game...but leave Donatello alone in here with Leo and Mikey, who might not be aware of his betrayal. Nevermind the fact that Mikey needed his help to escape, given the outcome of the prior room.  
     "Three points." His fingers were shaking with rage, Don's eyes glassed over as he struggled to breathe and compose himself. "Give this fucking asshole three points."  
     "Confirmed. Three points deducted from contestant RAPHAEL and added to contestant DONATELLO." Don's collar shifted back to the counter, now reading eight points in total.  
     "R-ra...ra..." Don tried to speak, to defend his actions to his brother, his lover, feeling tears trickling down the skin of his cheeks. A shock from the collar made Raphael release him and quickly silenced Donatello entirely, his entire body tensing as high voltage surged up and down his spine.  
     "Shut the fuck up, you bastard." Raph stomped over to the wall of buttons, his fist slamming on the icon with an X over its mouth. "In fact, I don't want to hear anything from you for a while." A pleasant tone chimed over the speakers, followed by a whisper of air as a ball of rubber sailed towards Donatello's face. It splashed against his beak and quickly spread around his head, somehow forming into a gag as if controlled by some force. Raphael approached cautiously to examine his handiwork, a curious hand reaching up to touch and tug at the rubber substance. It was just as hard as his gloves were earlier despite being liquid just seconds ago, without so much as a gap of air between the gag and Don's skin.  
     What Raphael couldn't see was Donatello's teeth chewing against the phallus filling his mouth, struggling to push it out or to find some degree of comfort. Until he could find a way to write or to remove his current handicap, there would be no explaining himself to Raphael.  
     "Interesting choice, turtle. Proceed to your next test alone." A door slid open for Raphael to exit, the smaller brute glaring up at Donatello one last time. The taller sibling's eyes were glassy, teary-eyed, and above all else, seemingly apologetic. If the test was designed to let Raphael get revenge for being betrayed, the taste of it all was incredibly empty, hollow, and bitter.  
     "You better think of a good explanation for yourself while I find Mikey and Leo. We'll figure out what to do with you once we're free, love." Raphael shuddered as he ended the sentence with his pet name for Donatello out of habit, bristling at the disgusting feeling it welled up within his own gut.  
     Raphael left the room before having to figure out why he felt sick with himself.


	6. Weakest Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelangelo is put at the mercy of a sibling.

     Michelangelo barely remembered what happened after he fell into the pit. He remembered Raph's horrified expression as he slipped from his sibling's grip; the warm splash of liquid as his shell cratered against the former floor; of darkness overcoming him soon thereafter.  
     Now he was strapped into a chair, that black liquid lapping gently at the midriff of his plastron. He could feel his legs and waist were secured somehow, and could plainly see the steel shackles holding his arms out to his sides. The position was compromising, and at present, inescapable.  
     "You came so close to succeeding, turtle, yet here you are, bound as the victim for our next test." Shredder's voice taunted him from above, monotone in its explanation. "Your point total stands at five, but this test won't change that value. Instead, a sibling of yours will have the chance to lend you aid...or leave you to your fate."  
     The wall in front of him shifted to transparent glass, Leonardo staring at him through it. Their leader was free of any bondage beyond his collar, and his point total was identical as well. Leo had been faring far better than himself, it seemed. "The game is simple. One of you has excelled at the game thus far, whereas the other has failed repeatedly. A good leader knows when to help his soldiers...and when to cut them loose." Mikey shuddered at the implication Leo might abandon him to whatever fate came next. "Very soon, your room will fill with more of my delightful liquid rubber until it's full. Anything covered will be suitably handicapped for the foreseeable future, although your fate isn't sealed just yet. Your companion here has the choice to divert the flow from your room into his own, handicapping himself to save you. Given the volume of space in his room, even diverting the entire flow would only reach to his knees; a meager sacrifice to rescue his sibling, don't you think?"  
     Leonardo was silent on the other side of the glass, as was Michelangelo. He knew that no amount of pleading would change Leo's mind, not when it came to the mission at hand. Even so, he felt his lip quiver as he choked back tears. The glass rendered an empty gauge, along with a timer and a single button. "It's time to decide. Do you both share a minor injury to retain the combined manpower? Or does the more successful leader cut loose the weakest link?"  
     Michelangelo inhaled sharply as ten seconds appeared on the countdown, red lights illuminating his tiny cell along with an alarm horn. Black liquid started pouring from the ceiling and quickly began filling the enclosed space, rising up to his chest as the clock began its countdown. Leo stared at him with arms crossed, remaining silent even as the liquid reached Mikey's neck. As the timer ticked past the halfway mark, Michelangelo suppressed the urge to panic, to scream or cry. Leonardo was silent, watching his brother being gradually buried under the seemingly infinite supply of liquid rubber.  
     Finally, he could stay silent no longer. His voice cracked as he tried to brush this off with one of his smooth quips, betraying his own fear. "L-little help, bro? Please?" Leonardo said nothing, and soon the liquid rose over Michelangelo's beak. The turtle sucked in one last gasp of air before it did so, darkness taking hold as the rubber filled the last air gaps in the cell.  
     The level in the cell didn't fall before his lungs began burning for air, the turtle gasping and filling himself with the black substance. Only then did the infinite darkness take over completely, once again robbing him of consciousness.


	7. Accomplice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello 'meets' the man behind the maze, and realizes there's more to them than simple games of chance or strategy.

     Donatello didn't remember being released from the meat hook of the prior room, or of the stars filling his vision for several minutes after Raph left the room. In fact, Donatello didn't even remember how he became gagged in the first place, or what had happened to him after he had been handcuffed at the first test.  
     The room he presently found himself in was devoid of any furniture or doorway, or any indication whatsoever of the game he'd have to play here.  
     "I see you're awake again, Donatello." He craned his head upward, invisible speakers talking down to him. Had he been addressed by name yet? "I can see those gears turning in your head, Donatello. Yes, I'm watching you right now. Talking directly to you, and only you." Slowly he picked himself off the floor, stumbling to his feet. It felt like he'd been knocked out in a fight, and judging from the scarring on his wrists, it would've been quite the bout. "Raphael really did a number on you, didn't he? It was an impressive show." Donatello wanted to cuss him out just like Raph would, but the rubber phallus lodged firmly in his jaw kept him silent.  
     "Vitals spiking...I don't know why you're so upset. Your designs have been successful thus far, after all." Wait. His designs? "Well balanced, believable stakes. This voice modulator of yours is impeccably accurate as well." No, that couldn't be right. He would never design something this...disgusting, nor would he subject his family to its horrors. "Your amnesiac has also been very effective. None of you are the wiser to our little game."  
     That explains some things, at least. He ran through the scenario in his head as he understood it. The sudden pain, the handcuffs, the collars, the voiceover and automation, none of it seemed to make much sense. Nor did their sudden abduction from the lair, the lack of memories leading up to their capture, or even the game itself! Why would their arch enemy force them to play this game anyway? Didn't the Shredder want them dead?  
     Dead.  
     There was a thread there, dangling in his mind. Begging to be tugged. A sudden headache formed at the front of his skull when he tried to focus, tried to find what that thread led to, a sharp pain jabbing at his brain like an icepick.  
     "Seeing as how you can no longer speak, I think it's safe to let you loose back in the game proper. In fact, I'm feeling so generous that I'll give you a chance to shave some points off that collar of yours." Donatello's focus snapped back to the present and his given predicament. With a seemingly permanent gag and eight points on his collar, he was at a severe disadvantage against his siblings. "All you have to do is put this on."  
     Something dropped from the ceiling with a metallic clink, yanking Don's gaze downwards. It was a metal disc, or rather, a metal grate of some sort. As he reached down to touch it, the stars in his eyes gave way to a flash of white light, his psyche forcing a buried memory to the front of his consciousness.  
     "You built this?" There was a person holding the disc, their image blurred and obscured. He didn't know who was holding it, who was talking to him, but he seemed to feel deep respect for them - and humiliation.  
     "Y-yeah." He confessed meekly, fists clenching against his thighs.  
     "I was unaware you desired such control, Donatello." He swallowed hard, nodding. "And it's permanent?"  
     "Yes. Spring loaded. Once it's inserted, it will deploy automatically and lock itself in place." This part he seemed proud of as if solving a complex engineering problem. "Only an angle grinder could get through surgical steel." The figure set the disc down on Don's workbench and paused in thought.  
     "Excellent work, Donatello. I will keep this in mind."  
     "...Donatello?" The memory was gone, and the disc was in his hands. He knew its purpose and its permanence. It was also proof that he had some participation in constructing this after all. "Put that on, and your counter will be cut in half. You'll be down to four points, Donatello."  
     He would also be permanently chaste.  
     Don dropped the disc to the floor and extended a middle finger toward the ceiling in protest. Contrary to his expectations, his rude gesture was rewarded with laughter. "Such bravado. We will see how long that lasts once you fully appreciate your hand in this, Donatello. For now, proceed to your next test." The speakers went silent and a door opened against one of the walls, beckoning Don toward the exit. With a limp and some pain, he forced himself onward.


	8. Elimination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelangelo's patience is tested, with his chance of escape on the line.

     Michelangelo surfaced from the darkness for the third time in as many hours, eyes blinking awake and body stirring back to life. He instinctively ran down the mental checklist of examining his body: flexing fingers and toes (with some degree of effort and creaking of rubber), then wiggling each leg and arm, bending them at their joints in a full degree of motion. By and large, everything seemed to be stiff, but okay.  
     Except for his head, however. Something was filling his mouth and spreading his jaw slightly apart, and deafening silence meant he could hear his own heartbeat through whatever was sealed to his skull. He reached his hands up to touch and explore there, only to find they had been replaced by large rubber gloves, like something he'd seen in porn. His combat boots from the earlier test were also still attached, and the rest of his body was a smooth if wet, rubbery material. Michelangelo touched his face, finding a sort of gas mask attached over his beak, lenses covering his eyes and distorting the world around him.  
     "Greetings Michelangelo. We're going to play one more game together." The voice was inside his head this time around as if he were wearing headphones or sitting next to a speaker. To say it was unsettling was a gross understatement. "As you've no doubt noticed, your consistent failures have netted you quite the outfit, although it's not quite permanent yet. This room will change that." Michelangelo whined through his gag, shaking his head. "In just a moment, heat lamps will bake the room to temperatures of over a hundred degrees, curing the latex rubber covering every inch of your body. All you have to do to pass this test...is relax."  
     A door opened at the end of the room, which Mikey could now see was just a long hallway, with himself at one end. "You always had difficulty sitting still, Michelangelo, and now we will truly test your ability to remain calm under pressure. If you sit still and let the lamps bake your new uniform into permanency, no points will be added to your collar, and you'll be free to continue the game. If you decide to try and run for the exit, however, you should know that each step you take will add another point to your collar's counter. You could trust me, wait out the process, remain perfectly still, and proceed onward once the test is finished...or you can try running. Though I doubt you can make it to the doorway in just five steps."  
     The lights in the room turned red and an alarm could be barely heard beyond the constricting rubber, the heat on his body rising shockingly fast as the test began. "This won't take long. Just stay still, and it'll be over soon." Michelangelo felt his heart start to race as the intense heat was positively sweltering under all his rubber, and his breathing became more labored as the material hardened over his chest and shell. His movement was increasingly constricting, yet the rise in heat continued.  
     Michelangelo took a step forward. "Contestant: MICHELANGELO has been penalized one point." The robotic voice echoed in his head, and the door didn't seem any closer. Perhaps the voice was right, perhaps it was too far to reach.  
     "Stay still, Michelangelo. You won't be harmed." Again he was told to resist his impulse to flee, to fight back, and it didn't sit well with him at all. "I'd hate for you to lose the game." He took another step forward and again was chided with a penalty point. "I can't help you if your collar reaches ten points, Michelangelo." He snarled around the gag. Since when was Shredder out to help him? He was the one who kidnapped his family and placed them into this game in the first place, yet now he claimed to help?  
     The heat rose even hotter, and the stiffness of the rubber began to give away to new flexibility, almost as if it wasn't a shell any longer. Michelangelo tried to gauge the distance to the doorway through the heat haze and gas mask lenses, but with everything so distorted, he couldn't be sure it was reachable. "Almost there. One minute to go, Michelangelo. Just stay still."  
     He couldn't breathe in this stifling heat and was beginning to panic. If he stayed, he might suffocate, might black out again, and he'd definitely be sealed into this suit. If he ran, however, he'd likely not make it to the doorway and would fill his counter with points before being eliminated from the game. He accidentally took another step toward the doorway and was again penalized for it. "Thirty seconds." Michelangelo covered his ears in a futile attempt to drown out the voice, screaming for help as indecision gripped his mind. Running wouldn't work, and staying put would just turn him into some fucking gimp.  
     "Ten..." Throwing his gaze around the room, he struggled to find any other way to escape. A door, a window, a button, anything.  
     "Eight..." The only exit was the opening at the end of the hall silently beckoning him to safety. Raph or Leo or Donnie could get this off of him, he knew it.  
     "Six..." An idea. Michelangelo planted his feet firmly on the ground and bent at the knees, then long jumped towards the door with all his might. He landed on his plastron and slid a few inches along the floor, carefully keeping his feet in the air. Perhaps if he-  
     "Contestant: MICHELANGELO has been penalized two points. Contestant: MICHELANGELO has been eliminated from the game." Mikey didn't have time to process what was being said before a loud bang rang out against the back of his neck. The turtle could feel the halves of his collar fall away and clatter to the floor below, but couldn't compel any part of its body to move.  
Stars filled the lenses covering its eyes, a familiar yet strange voice in its mind. "Don't worry Michelangelo, I'll make sure you learn obedience." The stars turned into rainbows, its mind fluttering away like dust on the wind. It didn't know who this 'Michelangelo' was, but as long as it had the pretty lights and sounds in its head, it was fine.  
     It was fine.


	9. Keys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonardo and Raphael bicker over who is to obtain the keys to their next test.

     Raphael and Leonardo were faced with a tough decision in their next challenge. "I ain't goin' in there." Raphael pointedly rejected the notion of volunteering for the proposed task. "Donnie fucked me over once, and I ain't getting fucked by you either."  
     "How do I know you won't sabotage me inside the maze?" Leonardo asked pointedly. "Besides, I'm the leader, and I'm ordering you to take the risk. You have more leeway on your points anyway, so even if you do get trapped, you'll still be ahead." Appealing to Raphael with logic alone was a fruitless endeavor, but it was all he had. One of them would have to run a maze on their hands and knees to retrieve a key, and the other would have the option of sabotaging their run for a reduction in points and instant access to the said key.  
     "I don't know if you noticed, ol' fearless, but none of us is a leader in here. Donnie screwed Mikey and me, and I don't know how you got out of your mitts, or why you and I weren't-"  
     "Enough Raph, we don't have time to bicker like this." Leonardo sighed. "I'll go if you'll just shut up already. Christ." Raphael stretched out a hand and rested it on Leo's shoulder, his amber eyes staring long and hard into his leader's own.  
     "I ain't gonna screw ya over, bro. We're in this together." With another sigh and a weak smile, Leo nodded.  
     "Alright. Just...go stand in position." The two split up, Raphael standing on the outlined platform while Leo got down on his hands and knees at the entrance to the maze. A translucent box sealed either turtle in their given roles, and a twenty-minute timer began counting down on Raphael's display. "Alright Raph, give me directions."  
     "Go forward until you feel your first right, then turn that way." The maze was pitch black, which meant Leonardo had to feel his way through it while Raphael navigated him via voice. He began mentally mapping the maze as he crawled along, just in case Raphael decided to betray him anyway. After all, he didn't know what Donnie had squealed about to the big brute, but there was no guarantee he'd kept quiet either. "Alright, take another right at the dead end, then a left at the end of the hall. It'll be a U-Turn."  
     "Got it. Time?"  
     "Plenty of it. Eighteen minutes and thirty seconds." Raphael watched Leo's dot crawl along the map on his screen, ignoring the large 'BETRAY' button beneath it. "So what'd ya choose at the start?"  
     "Alliance, of course. I trust my family." Leonardo lied, squeezing around the tight bend and plodding along. "Alright, next direction?"  
     "Keep going straight until you dead end again, then hook a left." The maze was compact but lengthy. Leo had five more turns to make before reaching the key, and then he'd have to navigate it all in reverse to get out. "Any traps in there?"  
     "None I can feel at the moment. Eager to get the hell out of here." He reached the dead end and turned left, then paused. "Alright, next?"  
     "Third exit on your left, counting from the first exit you pass. One, two, third." Leo was in the home stretch, and with fifteen minutes to go no less. "Donnie's choice screwed Mikey and me over."  
     "So you mentioned, but those handcuffs weren't all bad, were they?" A bolt of electricity ran down Raphael's spine. Donnie was handcuffed, but he and Mikey had rubber mitts on after the first game. "They restricted movement a bit, but that's all."  
     "Yeah. Hey, what was your second game, anyway?" Raphael's eyes hovered over the betrayal button, but then dismissed it. No, he had made a promise to Leo, and unlike Donnie, he intended to keep it.  
     "Game of chance." Leo squeezed into the next turn and followed it as the corridor zig-zagged around for a spell. "Two boxes, only one of which unlocked my cuffs. I guessed right." Handcuffs again, Leo always mentioned handcuffs. "Alright, where am I going now?"  
     "Uh...your right, I think."  
     "You think, or you know?" Leonardo snapped.  
     "I know. Go right." Raphael's fingers drummed on the console in thought. "Why do you think Donnie betrayed the three of us?"  
     "It's the smart choice to make. I recognized it as the Prisoner's Dilemma, but I put my faith in both of you to choose Ally instead of Betray." Leo lied through his teeth. "I guess I knew Donnie would make the most advantageous choice from a game perspective, though."  
     "How so?"  
     "Can we not discuss game theory right now, Raph?" Leo was getting testy in the darkened maze, and feeling more than a little claustrophobic. "Where am I going now?"  
     "Left. Your left, I mean." Leo felt along the wall, finding it solid throughout. "So you were handcuffed?"  
     "There's no left turn here, Raphael. Could you check the map again?"  
     "Mikey and I were put in rubber mitts." There was a lingering silence between them as the truth was revealed, and Leonardo exposed. "You hit betray, didn't you?"  
     "Raph, now really isn't-"  
     "I think it is, Leo. You've got fifteen minutes to find your way to the key and out again without my help unless you can convince me otherwise." Raphael smirked as he gave Fearless an ultimatum.  
     "It was the smartest choice to make, Raph, and maybe if you had listened to Donatello's lectures as I did, you would know that." Leonardo crawled frantically along, using his mental map to get back to the prior junction where Raph led him astray. "If we had all chose Ally, we all would've suffered a very minor, inconsequential penalty."  
     "Then you should've chosen Ally." Raph snarked.  
     "No, because you can never be sure everyone in the group will do the same. Likewise, if everyone chooses Betray, we all suffer a slightly worse penalty than if we all Allied." Leo winced as he banged against a metal wall, trying to turn himself around in the tight confines. "But I knew that we all wouldn't choose to ally, and we all wouldn't choose to betray. So I chose to betray."  
     "Why?"  
     "Because it minimized my penalty. I knew I would either take a heavy penalty or none at all and that everyone choosing the same answer wasn't a realistic outcome."  
     "So you saved your own skin rather than get chewed up like the rest of us." Raphael snarled back over the microphone, slamming his fists on the console. "You're a lying prick, and Mikey's gone because of you."  
     "No, he's not. He was in my last test Raph." Leo wished he'd kept silent almost as soon as he said those words, and hurried his pace appropriately.  
     "Then where is he now?"  
     "I don't know."  
     "What happened to him?" Raphael's questions became increasingly pointed, and Leonardo really didn't want to answer him.  
     "Raph, I really need your help here." There was a beat of silence between them. "Please, Raphael."  
     "You...you abandoned him, didn't you?"  
     "I had to, Raph. It's important you and I remain in peak condition so we can save them all later." Leonardo crawled faster, brute-forcing his way through the maze and hitting more and more dead-ends. "You know that's the best course of action." His knees were beginning to scrape up against the metal flooring, hurrying as fast as he could toward the center and its prize.  
He turned the final corner, a beam of light illuminating the key at the end of the pathway. Scrambling on all fours, Leo practically lunged for the metal object, clattering loudly against the metal frame of the maze. "I found it!" As soon as his fingers passed through the beam of light, the maze went dark. "Raph?" There was a rush of air around his naked form, the scraping of metal against itself. "Raphael? Something's happening here." He thrust his fingers toward the key again and found nothing there, the space empty except for himself. "Raph? The key is gone!" Leonardo pushed himself against the dead end of the maze, fingers frantically feeling all over for the key and finding nothing of the sort. "Raph!"  
     Raphael was watching the screen with a cold glare on his face, a night vision feed lighting up Leo's body in the tiny confines of the maze. The betray button was gone, the turtle having pressed it as soon as Leo admitted his betrayal towards Michelangelo. "I think you made the right choice, Raphael. A leader should be the first to sacrifice themselves to save their men, not the other way around." The voice from above was cold comfort to the turtle as he watched a wall box in Leo from behind, trapping his brother on all fours.  
     "Will this hurt him?"  
     "Not physically. Everything is lubricated, though he might be a bit tight for the punishment." The voice seemed happy with his choice if their arch enemy could even display such emotions. Raphael winced as a dildo emerged from the rear wall, and began pressing against Leonardo's backdoor.  
     "RAPH! HELP!" Leonardo began banging on the metal walls even as he was forced into a tighter and tighter position, another phallus sliding out of the wall in front of him. Soon the leader was airtight, plugged at both ends and left to whimper in dismay at his humiliating predicament, completely unaware that Raphael was watching the entire display.  
     "You may proceed at any time, Raphael." The turtle reached down to massage at his bulging slit, then turned away from the display.  
     "I don't suppose I can get dat on DVD when we bust outta here?" There was no response from the Shredder, leading Raphael to grumble. "Damn."


	10. Pierced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael has his first solo challenge of the games.

     Raphael should've been paying attention. He should've been checking his corners and utilizing his stealth skills to spot the enemy first. He should have remembered his training to escape from a tight grapple, to guard his pressure points and avoid a quick knockout.  
     Raphael should've done any of those, all of those, yet he didn't. And now here he was with some sort of cage on his head, and a whole bunch of hooks and needles pressed against his flesh. "You always were the rough and rugged sibling, Raphael." The voice taunted above him, out of view. "This test could help punctuate that performance with a matching appearance. Your test is to shed the rough and tumble exterior your siblings are so familiar with, and embrace the meditation and calm you teased your brother for perfecting."  
     Raphael bristled with anger for only a moment before a sharp pain and a large click resonated against his skull, bringing him to his knees with a loud whimper. He could feel a few drops of blood dripping from his nostrils, along with a new weight between them. "Your test has already begun, turtle. I suggest you remain calm until it ends. For every instance your heart rate rises above resting, you'll have a lovely new piercing to explain to your siblings. That, of course, was strike number one." The hooks against his gums tightened another notch, and the pins against his lips pressed firmer into the skin. "Trust me when I say that, by strike three, you'll look the part of a good little whore."  
     Raphael pushed down the pain and slowly sat on the floor, taking the orders to heart and attempting to meditate, to keep his heart rate low. Deep breath in, and out. In, hold, and out. Over and over, deeper and deeper. He let his mind sink into tranquility against the background of white noise in the room, to find the peace Master Splinter had pushed him towards time and time again. In...and out.  
     His meditation was disturbed by the sounds of footsteps and creaking rubber, bringing Raphael out of his trance. He opened his eyes just in time to see the large rubber creature from before walking towards him, carrying a box from one hand. The creature paid him no mind, and Raphael struggled to suppress the fear of being unable to respond if provoked without failing his test. The turtle-looking monster stalked by him, and when Raphael got a good look at the contents of the box, his heart skipped just enough beats to trigger another part of the trap. He gurgled and cried as two bolts punched through his lower lip, leaving behind a snakebite ring along with a cauterized wound. Resisting the urge to reach and touch it, he wrenched his eyes shut and yet again focused on his meditative trance.  
     The sight of Leo in the box cramped on all fours and plugged at both ends haunted his mind's eye at first. He only saw him for an instant before the trap was triggered, but that snapshot of his sibling was enough to stir conflict inside of him. Yes, he'd placed Leonardo in that trap, but why should he feel bad about it? Leonardo had betrayed them all first, had sacrificed them for his own gain. No, he shouldn't feel bad at Leo's comeuppance.  
     Except that's not what really bothered him. As Raphael sank deeper into his meditation, what bothered him more was the fact he liked what had happened to Leo. He liked how his brother looked with a cock in both ends, pinned on all fours, tightly restrained and forced to service them. He'd never seen Leonardo subservient before, and Raphael found himself rather liking the image of his brother in such a position of compromise.  
     A gentle rocking from behind jolted him awake with a gasp. "FUCK!" Raphael lept to his feet and braced for the final spring of the trap...which never came. The device was on the floor, unlocked and spread open. Had he passed his test? Raph spun on his feet to turn towards the touch, a pained and gagged Donatello looking at him with some concern. "Oh, uh...fuck, sorry Don." His sibling's hands reached up toward his face, fingers brushing over the new piercings rooted in Raphael's flesh. One hand gently pressed at the snakebite ring in his lower lip's left side, the other poking and pulling at the septum ring dangling from his nostrils. "Yeah. Guess I didn't do too well."  
     Don paused. Even though the rubber gag covered his sibling's beak from his nostrils to under his chin, Raphael could still see the tightening of muscles accompanying a soft smile. The turtle's hands gave Raph's cheeks a light squish together, a silent compliment. "Heh. You like 'em?" Donatello nodded gently. "Thanks. Maybe I'll keep 'em, then. Y'know, assuming Splinter don't freak." Raphael started to turn and pull away suddenly, causing Donatello to wince audibly in pain and stumble slightly.  
     Shit, he'd forgotten the workover he'd given Donnie. "C'mere." He was under Don's arm in a flash, acting as a pillar of support for his wounded brother. "I'm sorry I fucked ya up, D. Once Leo filled me in, well...you were right, and I was a jerk." A door was open on one side of the room, almost beckoning them toward it. "Yer gonna teach me some strategy when we get home. Got it?" Raphael spoke as if he were in command, giving Donatello an order rather than asking a favor. He smiled at this feeling of control and confidence, and the warmth it brought him.  
     "Lets get going."


End file.
